Chapter 3

By late afternoon, the morgue staff arrived to collect Raymond's body.

Samira walked out of the hospital alongside the rest of the family.

"Where are you staying? My driver can take you," Damian offered.

His voice was slightly hoarse. Since he'd arrived at the hospital, Samira hadn't spoken a single word to him.

She offered him a polite, empty smile and held up her car keys.

"Thank you, but I drove myself."

Her indifference was palpable; she was treating him with the distant courtesy reserved for a complete stranger.

Bianca, however, saw Damian's offer as an excuse to get closer to Samira. Her face darkened.

Hurrying forward, she looped her arm affectionately through his and chimed in, "Sam, why don't you move back in with us? At least you wouldn't be all alone, and—"

"A hotel is more convenient. Goodbye."

With a brief wave, Samira turned and headed for the underground parking garage.

Moments later, a silver Bentley emerged from the garage, gliding smoothly past the group still lingering near the hospital entrance.

"Looks like my sister's been doing just fine all these years," Bianca sneered. "Living the high life without a dime of help from her family."

Damian didn't reply.

In the four years since Samira's disappearance, he hadn't married Bianca. There were several reasons, but the main one was simple—over time, he'd realized Bianca wasn't the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

If he hadn't broken up with her yet, it was mostly due to family ties. The Harpers were wealthy, but their fortune paled in comparison to the Ashfords'. Still, the elders of both families were close friends, and because of that, the Ashfords had always looked out for the Harpers.

But there was another, far more important reason.

Ten years ago, Damian had nearly drowned, and Bianca had saved his life. Since that day, he had sworn to protect and care for her until the end of his days.

"Sam has always been ambitious, even as a little girl," Amelia declared. "She's smart, and she knows exactly how to charm men. Just look at those designer clothes and that car! She must have found herself a new rich backer. Unlike her, Bia, you're far too naive and innocent. Everyone just tries to take advantage of you."

On the surface, it sounded like a compliment about Samira, but the venomous insinuation underneath was impossible to miss.

"Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, I just want you to learn a thing or two from Sam. Look how well she's doing! Girls like her never become a burden to their families, no matter where they go. There are very few young women as resourceful as she is."

Damian was starting to lose his patience.

"Amelia, Bia, I need to go. I have an important meeting tonight."

"Yes, of course. Drive safely, alright?" Amelia replied, flashing a fawning smile.

She was terrified of offending the man she still considered her daughter's perfect future husband.

Damian said nothing more. He turned, got into his car, and drove off.

Bianca watched the vehicle until it disappeared from sight. Furious, she stamped her foot.

"This is all your fault, Mom! You never should have put that bitch in Damian's bed six years ago. He hasn't brought up marrying me once since then. And now that Samira's back, what are we supposed to do?"

Amelia gritted her teeth, her expression darkening. Her daughter's accusation hit the exact nerve she regretted the most.

Six years ago, she had orchestrated what she thought was a flawless plan.

She'd started by drugging Samira. Then, convinced Damian was too black-out drunk to actually do anything, she had sent the girl straight into his hotel room.

After that, Amelia had tipped off the paparazzi. The goal was to run a scandalous headline about Samira willingly throwing herself at her future brother-in-law. Amelia had set the whole trap expecting the disgrace to force the Harper family into disinheriting Samira entirely.

She never imagined the plan would blow up in her face.

Damian had actually slept with her.

From there, the situation had spiraled completely out of Amelia's control. Under heavy pressure from Raymond and Catherine, Damian was ultimately forced to marry Samira to save face.

Pushing the bitter memories aside, Amelia snapped, "I did all of that for you, you little fool. Damn it, everything went wrong because of your grandfather! That old man always favored Samira. But now that he's dead, there is no one to back her up."

"But, Mom..." Bianca chewed her lip, still anxious.

Even though Damian had treated her well over the years, she hadn't missed the lingering coldness in his eyes.

Ever since his divorce from Samira, the man rarely ever smiled.

He had turned into a total workaholic. Sometimes Bianca had to wait two or three months just to catch a glimpse of him.

"Don't worry. That idiot Samira is just as foolish as her late mother," Amelia soothed. "The most important thing right now is that we don't fall out with her. Not until she signs over her share of the inheritance..."

Ten days later, Raymond's funeral took place.

A light, dreary rain fell over Silvercrest. Every member of the Harper family had already arrived at the cemetery—except for Samira.

Several of the city's most prominent figures were also in attendance to pay their final respects.

A swarm of journalists had gathered outside the cemetery gates.

Raymond Harper had been a titan in Silvercrest. It was only natural that his funeral drew a media circus.

Whispers rippled through the crowd of attendees.

"I heard Raymond left the Harper Group to the eldest granddaughter."

"God, that woman is ruthless. Six years ago, she seduced her future brother-in-law and pushed her own sister out of the picture. Then she married into the Ashford family in her sister's place. And now she's taking over the Harper Group? You have to admit, it's impressive."

"Ha! So what? She's still just a calculating snake. The Ashfords kicked her out in the end, didn't they? Women like that are disgusting."

Amelia was secretly thrilled by the vicious gossip circulating through the crowd. Still, she forced her features into a mask of profound grief before stepping up to speak.

"May I have your attention, please? First of all, I want to thank you all for being here today to honor Raymond, and—"

"Mrs. Harper, is it true that Samira is taking over the Harper Group?" a journalist shouted, cutting her off.

Amelia paused, adopting a pained expression before answering, "On such a painful day, I'd rather not be distracted by business matters. However, when it comes to a company as vital as the Harper Group, one man's decision isn't enough. The board of directors will need to convene to select the most competent person for the role of CEO."

"Mrs. Harper, why isn't Samira here on such an important day?"

"Well, that's a question you'll have to ask her..."

Before Amelia could finish, the low, powerful roar of several engines echoed outside the cemetery gates.

A sleek, elongated Rolls-Royce glided through the entrance, flanked by an entire fleet of black Mercedes.

"Look at the license plate! That's Mr. Blackwood's car!"

Frenzied, the journalists immediately abandoned Amelia and surged toward the Rolls-Royce.

The car did, indeed, belong to Marcus Blackwood.

In Silvercrest, two wealthy, high-profile young men stood above the rest: Damian Ashford and Marcus Blackwood.

Marcus was the second son of Venturas City's most powerful casino magnate. He also ran Starlight Media, an entertainment empire that held the contracts of half the industry's rising stars.

Unlike Damian, who preferred to keep a low profile, Marcus thrived in the spotlight.

The doors of the Rolls-Royce opened slowly, and Marcus stepped out first.

"It really is Mr. Blackwood!"

The press swarmed the vehicle like sharks drawn to blood in the water.

Ignoring the flashing cameras, Marcus walked around the back of the car to the opposite door. With the effortless courtesy of a true gentleman, he offered his hand, helping a woman dressed entirely in black step out into the rain.

"Is that...? Oh my god, it's Samira Harper!"

"You've got to be kidding! What is Mr. Blackwood doing with a woman like her?"

But while the crowd was still trying to process the connection, two small figures climbed out of the car right behind her. They were both wearing tiny, impeccably tailored black suits.

Two adorable little boys, looking no older than three or four.

Their appearance dropped like a bombshell, instantly sending the entire cemetery into an uproar of shock and burning curiosity.